Neville and Hannah
by nut-tree
Summary: the untold story of Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott spanning from 4th year to 7th year , contains extreame fluffiness. plese R and R !
1. Chapter 1 the garden

Under cover of the loud music, Neville sighed. The Yule ball was always going to be a rather awkward affair, but he felt now that asking Ginny to go with him had emphasized this more than anything. He looked up from a long perusal of his own shoes to see her across the room in an animated discussion with a friend in the year above. No one had even expected him to get a date for the ball, let alone one of the most popular, prettiest girls in school, when they'd walked in there had been whispers and barely suppressed giggles and he just knew that everyone in the room was thinking "pity date".

The worst thing was that, even though Ginny had always been genuinely friendly and open towards him, they were probably right.

He'd felt such a dunce following her around all evening like a sad little lap dog , trying vaguely to make jokes with her many friends , which no one understood, and all the time conscious of the sniggers and snide looks following him. In the end he excused himself to get drinks and got himself an empty table in a dark corner: best to sit it out...

As he watched a tall, dark haired Ravenclaw came out of the crowd towards Ginny. They talked and laughed for a little while and then he led her off to the dance floor, leaving Neville forgotten in the dark.

He felt a sudden rush of heat and knew he had to go outside, the dark shape of so many couples blurring at the edge of his vision as he staggered to the door.

He lifted his face to the cool night air, looking up at the stars and wishing to be anywhere else, he was still conscious of being jostled by a steady stream of students heading out to the grounds and the privacy of the rose bushes. He needed a quiet place, to sit and think , and his feet started to take him there even before he'd consciously told them to.

In the moonlight, the school greenhouses looked like nothing but dark silhouettes from a distance, but closer to it was possible to glimpse the faint glow of light emitting from some of the luminous plants (Aduro Assumus perhaps, or Atra Flamus) or to hear the faint creak of soil as a mandrake turned over in its sleep.

Neville squeezed through the small gap in-between the two largest greenhouses with a practiced air, and half fell into the small triangle of what could scarcely be called a garden. The grass there was long and was weaved in with small white flowers and soft patches of moss , by the light of an escaped fairy he could just make out the small ornamental bench squeezed into the upmost corner , probably conjured from some other solitary soul decades ago , possibly centauries - it was always hard to tell with Hogwarts.

But there was an unfamiliar shadow in the garden tonight, a little quaking wraith curled up on the bench, shaking and gasping for air.

Neville squinted into the darkness.

"Hannah?"

The crying stopped abruptly and the figure gave a small cry of fright before she realized it was him.

"Oh….Neville….i…. I didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

"Yeah, er …2nd year …" Crabbe and a few other slytherins had been taunting him about his parents.

"Oh, I only found it at the start of the year – Ernie- um- I mean …someone …showed me"

Neville nodded weakly – he knew from some of the conversations he eavesdropped on in class that Hannah and Ernie Macmillan had finally officially got together the previous summer. The involuntary image of them entwined on the bench made him blush deep scarlet – lucky it was dark really. He looked around for something to say and, as always, ended up bringing up the most awkward subject possible.

"So how come you're out here tonight?" he internally shriveled in embarrassment – it was pretty obvious – why else would a girl be alone and crying at a ball?

"It's Ernie – he's been – he's been just horrible to me!" Neville could see the tears resurfacing but could tell when someone had something they really needed to get off their chest. So he resignedly sat down beside her and prepared himself to hear an awful lot of stuff he wasn't going to understand.

"He, well he was really late meeting me and then he didn't even say sorry! And then he just kept kind of ignoring me, you know? A-and he was kind of staring at this Beuxbaton girl all the time and HE DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME TO DANCE! So I told him… I t-told him….."

And she was completely incoherent with sobs again. Neville sat there having absolutely no idea what to do. After about five minutes he started tentatively patting her back only for her to turn blindly and start crying into his shoulder instead.

"Hannah…. "He said again uncomfortably but she was too far gone to hear him and he was reduced to just awkwardly holding her upright until the tears started to lessen and she had enough sense to turn away again.

He pulled a dusty handkerchief from the pocket of his dress robes and offered it to her. And she took it, careful not to brush his hand. She was obviously just as embarrassed by the last few minutes as he was.

"Well I'd er better go…" He said after some time of silence; though he had no idea where.

"Could…would it be alright if you stayed for a little while? I – I'd just feel even more hopeless sitting here on my own."

Her eyes were so pale that they seemed to perfectly reflect the moonlight and the tears still clinging to her eyelashes might have been pearls.

"Of course – for a bit, if you want."

They sat together looking up at the stars and thinking their own thoughts. Somewhere in the darkness their hands linked and there they were, two lonely spirits finding each other.

After what easily could have been hours, Hannah stood up and turned to him.

"Thank you – that was –well…thanks."

And before he knew it she had kissed him lightly on the cheek and left the garden. He touched the small damp patch, still half in his reverie – it tingled.


	2. Chapter 2  finding you

Over the next few weeks Hannah seemed to see Neville everywhere ; in herbology, squeezing past her to get into the great hall, even sitting by the lake when she looked out of her window the morning after the ball – sharing his toast with the giant squid. She couldn't believe she had never before really noticed how much he was around – he seemed to have always been hovering around the edges of her life, unnoticed until now.

The thing was that she didn't really know how to be around him any more – part of her just wanted to ignore the time they'd spent together in the herbology garden but something had definitely passed between them now, they weren't exactly friends but there was definitely some kind of connection there that was hard to forget. Sometimes she woke up still with the feeling of his hand on hers.

For the most part though, she managed to dismiss whatever this new thing between them was and focus on her normal life. Ernie, thank goodness, seemed to have come back to his senses by the time she'd returned to the ball and had apologized, pretty earnestly for him, before kissing her heartily behind a tapestry and agreeing to dance. Of course she would have preferred for him to not still stare at the Beuxbatons girl in the corridors when he thought she wasn't looking, but nobody's perfect after all.

One herbology lesson Hannah told Ernie to go on without her at the end, because the greenhouse was a complete mess and, since she was the one who had accidentally let go of the bouncing bulb they were meant to be repotting – so that it smashed several plant pots and panes of glass before exploding on the floor in a foul smelling mess. - She felt it was her responsibility to stay behind and help professor spout clear up.

She was just opening a pot of magical mess remover when she noticed that Neville , too had stayed and was struggling with the venemous tentacula – which was threatening to strangle him rather than let him past to where most of the mess was.

She quickly ran forward to help haul it off him but promptly got whipped across the face by a branch. Eventually their combined stunning spells managed to stop it's assassination attempt and, laughing, they crammed it's still twitching branches back into its pot.

For the first time they looked up at each other, still flushed from battle, and their laughter deflated into shifty grins, they quickly looked away again.

"Erm…..Hannah?"

Her heart pounded and she determinedly faked fascination at a plant near her feet.

"Yeah?"

"There's a creeper in your hair."

She quickly put both hands up to her head and groaned , one of the tentaculas limbs had indeed got trapped in her hair , and made such a tangle that she wouldn't wonder if she's have to chop half her hair off to free it She reluctantly started tugging at it and squeaked in pain.

"Here… "Neville motioned her to sit on one of the garden chairs "You'll never get that out on your own."

She could feel his breath on the back of her neck as his hands, buried in her hair, gently eased the plant out.

Hannah closed her eyes and tried to control the Goosebumps that had broken out all over her arms and the fierce thumping of her heart. "Get a grip of yourself, you have a boyfriend and its only Neville" she told herself sternly, only a part of her not connected to her rain didn't seem to be listening.

There was a pause then a Neville's voice above her head said "Ok, you're free."

"Thanks…again" she said, smiling slightly as she stood up.

"Oh – err… that's all right" He said looking quickly away. "Shouldn't we probably try to clear some of this lot up now?"

"Sure – why don't you wipe and I'll fix the glass" she noticed him raise his eyebrows slightly at her giving him the "woman's" work , but then he just kind of laughed and got on with it – not like any other boy she knew would.

As they cleaned they talked about rubbish – how lessons were and quiddich (How it was no real use but that the parties were fun.)And their plans for the holidays and loads of other stuff she couldn't remember afterworlds. Only that it was just like talking to someone she's known forever – not the quiet, forgetful boy she had glimpsed at school.

The there was nothing left to do and they were standing there, looking at each other in the growing twilight. It was getting very hard to look at him again all of a sudden.

"Neville – what exactly are we? I mean, this is only like the second time I've ever spoken to you… so we're not exactly friend but we're like…like….."

She knew she was babbling and would have stopped anyway – but the look she suddenly saw in his eyes cut her dead.

Part of her – the part that remembered she wasn't meant to be doing this- urged her to look away again – to not meet that intense gaze that made her feel like he knew her entirely and ….well… wanted her all the more for it. She looked right back at him. Somehow in that millisecond it took her to make that decision he had come much nearer.

She looked up, he was taller than her and she noticed the face that had once seemed cute in a childlike way had changed into one that wasn't exactly good looking but held a kind of calm strength.

Something clicked in her head and she looked away.

"I've really got to go – people will be wondering where I am and it's nearly dinner"

"Ok" She could still feel him quite near her and took a step towards the door – facing away from him now.

"I'll…..I'll see you around ok?"

"Alright – I'll lock up if you want…. and Hannah?"

She was nearly at the door by this point.

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what we are either…but it might be best not to ….y'know tell people yet….please."

She felt herself nodding but then before she knew it she was running across the grounds – back to the lights of the great hall and normality.


	3. Chapter 3 before and after

As Neville stepped onto the Hogwarts express, despite the terrible events of the previous year and the return of Voldemort, he felt unreasonably cheerful. He was finally going back to where his few friends were and, more importantly, where Hannah was.

He hadn't had much chance to talk to her for the rest of the previous year, there had been so much absolute confusion and fear in the last few weeks and tightened security everywhere – but they had kind of half waved at each other whenever they happened to meet and met in the herbology garden once more one misty lunchtime when Hannah's other friends had preferred to stay inside in the warm.

At the leaving feast , he had seen her crying after the toast to Cedric Diggory and felt something of a repeat of what he'd felt in the greenhouse – an overwhelming desire just to hold her and be near her forever. But then Macmillan had put his arm around her and he got a grip on himself – strenuously ignoring the roaring in his ears, although he couldn't help that his hands had curled up into fists.

He finally walked past the compartment that she was in and couldn't stop himself grinning. She caught his eye and gave him a swift smile back before resuming her conversation with Susan bones. Secrecy was the name of the game.

He wasn't exactly sure why he'd asked Hannah to keep …what they had secret at the time. Looking back he supposed it was to avoid gossip or because her boyfriend might be angry about her hanging around with another guy (Even if it's only you – he reminded himself quickly.) But mostly because the couple of times they had been together had been like nothing else he'd ever felt in his life. It was kind of like they were outside time and the normal rules of life – and going round telling everyone would ruin that.

Most of that year was a bit of a blur: OWLs, the ministry interference – the escape of Bellatrix Lestrange .But a few things would always stick in Neville's mind: first of all the DA meetings, it just felt so liberating to be able to prepare himself for what was happening "out there" as Harry kept saying, but not only that but when he was there people were more friendly than they had ever been in school – they were kind of like a family.

Another thing, of course was the time he spent with Hannah. Not every day but perhaps once a week they'd find a place to "accidentally" meet up – after classes they had together or lunch , once even , when Ernie was ill and she could get away from her other friends, they went to a snowy Hogsmeade together. He knew he wouldn't ever forget it: the tiny snowflakes collecting on her eyelashes, her cheeks glowing pink with laughter in the three broomsticks, one of her plaits unraveling at the end when they sat together on the gate, looking out at the shrieking shack. She was magic.

Most of the time they met they managed to keep it light but then every so often they'd get into deeper territory and one or other of them would have to change the subject in case it got too far like in the greenhouse. But he still couldn't help getting more certain every time he saw her that they were just meant to end up together.

The last thing he would remember was kind of a mixture of the previous two: the night at the ministry. He'd been walking with Hannah back from the history of magic exam (which had been a complete disaster.) When they'd heard what sounded like a duel in a neighboring corridor , going to look , they saw a swarm of students watching Warrington from the slytherin quiddich team along with several other members of the inquisitorial squad starting to close in on Ginny , who was putting up a very good fight – but not good enough.

He saw her throw an expectant look at him and realized this was a situation he could help in. He drew his wand from his robes and took careful aim at the largest slytherin ...just one good stunner would-

"Neville!" Hannah had tugged at his sleeve "What do you think you're doing! They'll kil-Argh!"

As she had pulled at his arm again his spell had gone array, bouncing off the walls, causing a great deal of panic and apparently knocking little Dennis Creevey unconscious.

"What did you do that for?" He demanded rounding on her "We're in the DA! , you should understand – we can't just let them take her!"

Then he heard her screaming and a huge blow to the back of his head – when the world started to revert itself from blackness again he felt muscled arms dragging him and felt Ginny still kicking and lashing at their captors like a wild cat.

Looking slowly back towards the crowd he could still see Hannah's anxious face sliding in and out of focus amongst them.

When he next came to they were in Umbridge's office.

That night he faced his parents torturer for the first time – she was everything he every fearer but he wasn't afraid then , just angry and what he supposed some people who didn't understand would say was brave , he just called it not caring one way or another. He only wished he hadn't kept getting hurt and generally getting in the way….

When they took the portkey back to school there was a kind of eerie silence in the air. He wasn't entirely sure what had just happened- sirius black had died but he didn't know anymore whether that was a good thing or not, he caught half whispered conversations from the other grown-ups about harry and voldemort . His head and nose hurt awfully and he really wanted just to sleep forever.

After He got his nose fixed and was told rather reluctantly by Madame pomfrey that he could go , he just hung around outside the hospital wing for a while , his head was too full and he was just too tired to even decide to go up to bed. There was a weird noise too, a kind of squeak that rose and fell and he wasn't entirely sure whether he was imagining it or not. He slumped against a wall – everything felt so surreal. The noise was getting louder and more continuous.

After a time, he started dragging himself in the direction that he thought Gryffindor tower was. Suddenly, the sound was much nearer and he made out – in a sort of disconnected way that it was in fact his name said over and over again in between sobs. He looked up and was sent flying backwards again when something came streaking down the corridor towards him and collided into his chest with the force of a cannonball.

He looked down to see Hannah clinging to him and crying into his chest still muttering incoherent stuff like.

"I thought…I thought – they were saying …DEATH EATERS ….and….dead…and – but …OK…."

Neville was still exhausted and numb and struggling even to stand up but he knew now that what he had needed most was finally there.

He held her for a long time, not saying anything, burying his face in her golden hair and swaying slightly on the spot.

Then the door to the hospital wig opened without warning and they sprang apart. Luna Lovegood was standing there staring at them interestedly with her misty eyes. At the tears still pouring down Hannah's face and the wet patch on Neville's front and that they still held hands. She looked back up at Neville

"Do you know where the thestrals went? Only I promised mine a freshwater plimpy if he got us there safely."

He shook his head dumbly.

"Oh…." She seemed to wander vaguely off again, but when Hannah turned towards him again he saw her look over her shoulder, wearing what for anyone else but Luna would call a knowing smirk.


	4. Chapter 4 ernie

For Hannah, her 6th year at Hogwarts meant fear. Throughout the holidays and even at school, terrible news seemed to trickle through – promising a torrent.

She had passed her OWLs well enough , but not quite to the standard she'd need to become a healer – which had been her ambition since she could remember and left her feeling rather lost.

One of the only bright patches of her days were the times she spent with Neville, even just catching a glimpse of him now and then seemed to lessen the cloud of foreboding that's seemed to follow her now, so that she found herself distracted from conversations with her friends, even Ernie, on a regular basis and dwelling instead on the growing darkness.

With Neville, perhaps because she could tell he could feel it too, none of that mattered anymore. At the weekends they'd sometimes spend hours just talking or else walking around the grounds in companionable silence and scarcely noticing the time go by. When they were together she actually laughed for real and sometimes couldn't help herself just watching him sometimes when he wasn't looking at her, the lean muscles starting to develop on his arms and the easy way he walked and, of course, those hazel eyes which somehow managed to look both intense and full of light at the same time.

Sometimes she even felt her guard start to come down and thought of him in a way she knew she shouldn't with a boyfriend of two years waiting back at the common room. It was definitely time for a chat with Ernie.

She chose a time when they were alone together, sitting under a large beech tree next to the lake with their combined homework fanned out in front of them.

"Ernie?"

He turned to her with a strange look on his face.

"Yes, Hannah"

"You know you're my best friend in the world?"

His voice softened slightly.

"Of course I do Han"

"Well…I was thinking – I – I like you a lot you know, but it's only…i don't feel like you're my boyfriend anymore , like we've kind of just gone back to just being friends and – well…I was wondering if that was really such a bad thing…"

She chanced a glance up at his face, only to see him nodding slowly.

"I think you might be right."

"What?" she thought she must of misheard him. "I mean – really?"

He sort of half smiled.

"Yeah, well….things have been …different for quite a long time now haven't they?"

She nodded dumbly. She couldn't believe this.

"Of course, officially I'm completely heartbroken and full of regret of what might have been and so on" He continued, looking significantly more cheerful.

She laughed, and it was like nothing had ever changed between them.

"Oh of course – utterly consumed by grief, don't worry I'll tell everyone" She said with a wink, so many people didn't understand his way of doing things like she did, but that didn't stop her finding it hugely amusing.

They passed several minutes in companionable silence.

"So… who is this "someone else" then" he asked her out of the blue, grinning at her dumbstruck expression. "You going to tell me his name?"

She recovered herself slightly and couldn't stop herself beaming right back at him.

"Not yet Ern, but definitely maybe soon."


	5. Chapter 5 a goodbye

Neville stretched pointedly, then shared a devious smile with Hannah, who was working at a table on the other side of the greenhouse from him.

Some early autumn leaves had dropped from the surrounding trees onto the glass roof and now dappled shadows filled the room, giving it a slight sense of quiet mystery, like a forest clearing.

Then He bent back down to the table and soon became absorbed in his work once more, the muffled snap as his shears pruned and shaped the plant, followed by the clattering of seeds and fruit into the chipped, willow patterned bowl positioned near the edge of the table so that if the innocent looking shrub realized what he was doing he could easily grab it and run.

So immersed was he that he barely noticed a worried looking Professor Macgonagal slipping through the doors and ushering Professor Sprout outside , or even the exchange of panicked voices that followed. But he did notice the significantly pale Sprout quietly edging through the students to get to Hannah, and leading her out the door. A few seconds later they heard a scream.

"Hannah!" Ignoring the surprised looks in his direction and the outbreak of whispers, he pushed his way to the front of the interested crowd gathered round the door to see Hannah being hugged by a man with her bright hair and pale blue eyes. Right now they were wet and he could see the face that normally would appear kindly and intelligent, rent by pain and an awful knowledge beyond it's years. But it was Hannah who scared him most. Her back was turned to him but even as it was he could see the strange straightness of her back and, most unusually, the lack of tears whilst her father was crying. He also noticed her hands, shaking convulsively but clenched at her sides. He knew what must of happened as if she had turned and shouted it at him, only one thing would bring out that in her. Someone was dead.

He tried the door handle, only to find that maconogal must have locked it behind them. He swore angrily and rattled it hopelessly, drawing yet more curious glances, although most were still intent on the saga outside.

Uselessly, he stood there on the wrong side of the glass door, just willing Hannah to look back at him so he could offer whatever small comfort he could. But she didn't and in the end the small party started making their way up towards the castle.

Professor sprout stood watching them for a minute, looking shaken and obviously oblivious to the 30 or so faces staring out at her. Then, finally she started fumbling with the bolt.

The moment the door was open, Neville was out and barely had the presence of mind to mutter "Bathroom" as he rushed away. He had no idea what his plan was except to somehow just find Hannah and let her know that….what? he understood? He loved her? He pushed the alarming thought away immediately , he couldn't cope with that right now.

He'd only just made it up the steps to the enterance door when he ran , almost litterarally , into proffesor magonagal. She seemed more discomposed than usual , but still managed to gather herself together with admirable speed.

"Longbottom! Why aren't you in your lesson?"

"Well er….." a million excuses whipped through his mind but he dismissed them all almost immediately – It was no good , she'd noticed the desperate look on his face.

He could almost see her mind whirring under her glasses and steely grey bun.

"I suppose this is something to do with Miss Abbott?" she said finally – and he fancied her tone was a little less brutal than usual.

He gaped at her- completely stumped

"How did you know that?"

She smiled grimly "39 years and 10 months of teaching does tend to give some insight into the minds of teenagers" Her smile faded. "But I'm afraid Miss Abbott won't want company right now – her mother was found dead this morning – suspected death eater attack – she was a great witch. And her father sees fit to withdraw her from school."

"But – professor!"

She looked at him almost kindly. "Please return to your lesson shortly Longbottom" and turned on her heel – walking towards the school kitchens , presumably to find some house elves to pack Hannah's bags and take them outside so that she could leave Hogwarts , leave him. He couldn't believe it- he had to find her.

He blindly ran up the nearest staircase, and the next one, and the next one; even remembering, for once, to jump the trick step on the 3rd floor. The sound of him hopelessly shouting her name echoed through the corridors, intensifying his misery and sense that it was all too late. There was a war on . She's leave and never come back – he knew it. Today was more proof, if he had ever needed it, that the good never make it out alive, or if they do….He thought bitterly of his parents. An unwelcome image of Hannah, lying in a hospital bed, her face sunken and uncomprehending loomed in his head like a phantom and he felt his knees suddenly buckle.

He reached up from where he lay on the ground, his hands seeking something to help pull himself up so he could keep on running. – A windowsill, perfect. He heaved himself onto his knees, head now leaning against the cool window pane, boiling tears running, unwelcome, down his face.

Outside two small figures were walking down the path leading out of Hogwarts, each dragging a trunk. The passed the winged boars that perched on either side of the gate then held hands and disappeared, Not looking back, not ever looking back.


	6. Chapter 6 seventh year

He didn't see her for eleven months. He'd never felt lonelier in his entire life , it felt like his light , his secret talisman against all the evil pressing in , had somehow slid between the gaps , letting the darkness rush in. Now there was nothing: no DA, no Hannah and very little hope for a bright future; the resistance was failing. He felt somehow older and quite disconnected from everyone else at Hogwarts , preferring to spend most evenings now alone in the quiet common room , sitting on his bed in the growing darkness turning the fake galleon Hermione had handed out so many months ago over and over in his hand. Until one night it grew suddenly hot, and within hours, their last great protector had died.

The holidays weren't much better, the word was that the ministry had fallen and, rumour of more and more terrible news seemed to whisper against his bedroom window every night. He thought often of writing to Hannah, checking she was ok, but he knew his gran would never let him use the family owl and, anyway, what on earth would he say to her?

The thing that kept him going that summer was the front cover of the daily prophet he now had pinned to his bedroom wall – proclaiming that now all young people under the age of 19 must attend Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. He knew that it was certainly just something cooked up by death eaters to keep them all under control, but it gave him the gift a little voice in the back of his head saying with every beat of his heart: You'll see her again, you'll see her again.

But it was never going to be the same. The first day back was a complete nightmare – he couldn't see Hannah anywhere on the train or even – though he supposed it shouldn't have surprised him – Harry, Ron or Hermione. He saw Luna and Ginny clustered together in one of the compartments, looking worried, but something made him turn away and find one of his own. He really needed to think things out: death eaters would be running Hogwarts, students would be sure to need someone to gather around more than ever, only now that someone – namely Harry – was gone. He felt for the DA galleon in the pocket of his robes and felt a thrill of terror or excitement or both – it looked like they were going to have to do it themselves.

Then, he saw her – just stepping onto one of the school carriages as he tugged his baggage off the train. Even after all those months of missing her , he was surprised at how strongly he reacted to that fleeting sight of her – his stomach seemed to be performing backflips – just like those the fake moody had made him do under the imperius curse in his 4th year. All over his skin tingled and he felt slightly feverish – but the rush of pure joy outbalanced them all.

She was already gone – the carriage had disappeared into the mist even before he could call out but he cherished the moment like the sight of a fallen star and smiled to himself as he got into the next carriage, patting one of the thestrals harnessed to it as he passed.

But the feeling of happiness only lasted as long as it took to get into the castle. Gone were the normal bright banners and cheerful faces that normally hailed welcoming feasts such as this – the great Hall was filled with sombrely coloured drapes and the chair that should have been Dumbledore's instead contained the slump backed shape of Snape – his murderer, whilst two more leering figures sat on either side of him and the other teachers exchanged terrified looks or else glared across the table with badly hidden loathing.

He took his place at the Gryffindor table next to a desolate looking Seamus and prepared himself for the worst, which was just as well as it was very nearly that. The speech seemed to go on for hours and it was all Neville could do not to run up and seize by the throat the man that had owed his life to Dumbledore but still hadn't had a problem with killing him in cold blood and condemning his every action in front of his school.

He looked around the sea of shocked faces , seeking Hannah's , and at last managed to locate her at the far end of the hufflepuff table – away from her usual friends and staring up at Snape with a blind , lost look. When she noticed him watching her, however, she surprised him by meeting his gaze ferociously for a second, before turning so quickly her long plait nearly slapped her in the face and staring in the opposite direction. It felt as though a cold, heavy weight had dropped into the pit of his stomach.

She'd ignored him before, given him the silent treatment when he'd gone too far, even shouted at him – but something in her eyes now told him it had gone further than that – like she suddenly hated him. It wasn't just him too. Over the next few weeks – whilst Hogwarts steadily grew more desperate and he, Ginny and Luna stayed up half the night planning the resistance, he watched her furtively- and what he saw, scared him even more. She didn't seem to be talking to anyone at all, but always sat alone, wrapped in the folds of a cloak that was suddenly much too big for her – how much weight had she lost? Other people seemed to be avoiding her too. It was like she had consumed too much of her own smoke and it was destroying her and anyone else who was foolish enough to get too near to her – the hatred and pain bursting through the shield she had built herself. She no longer seemed even to cry or display any emotion at all, just survived.

It took Neville a long time to decide what was best. For a while he thought it might really be best to leave her for a while, see if she could work stuff out on her own if she was so keen not to let anyone else in. But then he started to realise something else- she was trapped. It wasn't at all that she was choosing to act like she was – she was simply a victim of circumstance who couldn't see any other way out. He'd have to talk to her: he was the only one who could.

But then there was just too much going on – unconsciously, he supposed he was far keen to put it off because, deep down, he was just terrified that he'd break open the shell to find the girl he loved had vanished.

It so happened that the day he ended up speaking to her was the day they tried to rescue Dennis Creevey. The DA had found out about his capture that morning and formulated a plan to free him from where he had been chained up in the dungeons after someone overhearing him talk about the DA and telling the Carrows.

He swallowed hard as he walked back to the Gryffindor corridor that night. Trying to force back the image of the tiny body wrecked by the force of the cruciatous curse. He should have known it was a trap – that they'd lock the doors behind them and…..and…. He punched the wall – sending the occupants of a nearby portrait running for cover before continuing his journey, breathing hard.

The he heard a noise from a nearby empty classroom – like the squeak of a particularly frightened mouse. And pure recklessness made him investigate, wand raised.

She was sitting on one of the desks in the darkness, just staring at the wall and rage bubbled up inside him.

"You can stop feeling so sorry for yourself!"

She turned around slowly. Her eyes pinpricks of anger again.

"What did you say to me?"

He felt a qualm of almost guilt, but pushed it aside.

"I said your acting like a selfish little girl – do you really – do you really honestly think you're the only person to ever loose someone, to feel like this?" Her whole face had now turned cold and hard and it gave him a shock to remember who she had been.

"You don't have the faintest idea" She said, and her voice was almost a hiss. "You don't know, your parents are all safe and tucked up in st Mungos, so don't – don't even try it- Longbottom." He winced, she knew how much he hated his name, but that was nothing compared to the enormity of what she'd just said and he found himself shouting.

"MY PARENTS HAVE LOST THEIR MINDS, HANNAH! THEY DON'T EVEN RECOGNISE THERE OWN SON! DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT'S BETTER!."

She had curled up in a ball now and seemed to be talking almost to herself.

"My mother was thirty –five years, old, she was too young to die – she –we, we were going to go to America when I'd finished school – we were going to be happy."

"No one's ever old enough to die Hannah", he said and his own voice was almost a whisper now. "At least she got some dignity; at least they gave her that." He thought of his own mother, lying pale and unconcerned on a hospital bed, pieces of her whispery hair lying on the pillow beside her, a draw filled with empty sweet wrappers by her bed.

He was not aware of having sat down, but he found himself on the desk next to her's, his thumb stroking the soft wood of the desk, disfigured over the years by the graffiti of countless bored students.

"But you know what we have to do to end all this Hannah?" He whispered to her in the dark.

She shook her head fiercely, as though she knew but couldn't- or wouldn't say.

"We've got to Han, we – we've got to help fight him. It's the only way we can end this or-or it'll all just go on and hurt som-someone else's kids or-or parents or…."

He turned to see her looking at him – properly, for the first time in months. Tears were pouring down her face, seeming to streak it with silver and she looked scared and still more than a little distant from everything. But then she gave the tiniest of nods and stretched out her hand to him. Not as a sign of tenderness of friendship- but in the way a drowning person reaches out for a plank of wood, much too small to keep them afloat. Just so that they can hold something solid and real in the twisting, ungraspable seas that their life has become.

He took her hand, squeezing it slightly tracing every bone with his fingers and feeling a sense of homecoming. She was never going to be the person she used to be again – this new girl was fragile and still shocked by how life could change quite so suddenly and tragically, but he felt something else in her too now. A lack of the slight silliness that he'd always put up with with a wry humour and an increase in –well – her sincerity , she now knew , as he always had that nothing was permanent and that friendship and happiness-and love , were not things to be taken for granted but were special and serious and ought to be treasured. It gave them a bond he's never quite expected to have with anyone. Nothing was fixed yet, nothing at all. But at least now she, and they , still had a chance.


	7. Chapter 7 a start

After the night Neville shouted at her, Hannah started to find things easier again. She was still torn up with grief and pity for her father, who- without the love of his life- now barely even found it in him to speak, let alone send letters. But just knowing there was someone who understood well….everything just helped her get through the days that little bit easier. She also found that, at least most of the time, she was no longer angry; the hour or so of hysterical sobs after her conversation with Neville seemed to have released everything that had been building up inside her since that day and turned her human again, or as much of one as could be expected of a girl who's mum – she veered away from the train of thought. She had to get on.

A big problem now was Neville: now that she'd climbed out of the pit of despair she'd found herself in, she's started thinking about him, about them again. Before she had left school she was certain that they were just on the edge of becoming a proper couple. Something, she now realised, they had been skirting round for years. But now – now she wanted to be with him more than ever and she thought that she'd finally found the part of herself that would be ready for the kind of relationship that she'd have with someone like him (i.e. – a real one.)

But? But she was completely exhausted and she wasn't sure her fragile state would cope well with the ups and downs of a relationship and also, although she was ashamed to admit it: Neville was at the centre of a rebellion against the most evil wizard of all time, right under the nose of some of his most loyal and violent followers and …she was scared. A year ago she wouldn't have seen this as a problem – she had, after all, joined the DA- even under the threat of expulsion. But she wasn't the person she had been a year ago ; she knew what these people are capable of and what that does to a family. She shuddered to think of what would happen to her father if she, too, never returned home.

She just didn't know what to do.

She really made her decision a few weeks later. She was just heading back from the library when she suddenly heard panicked voices and running footsteps coming from around the corner ; she knew instinctively who it was , but her suspicions were confirmed when , moments later , the disheveled figures of Neville , Ginny , Luna and Seamus came skidding around the corner, pulling a frightened looking first year in their wake.

"Neville wha-?"

"Hannah!" he grabbed both her wrists, nearly slipping on the stone floor as he struggled to stop in front of her and gazed entreatingly into her eyes. "Hannah – you don't – you don't happen to know if there's anywhere – if there's anywhere to hide down here?"

She hesitated for a split second – and he seemed to read the indecision on her face because a kind of desperate ferocity now came into his eyes and he whispered:

" Look , you know I'd never normally ask- but we need to get the kid safe and as it's near your common room I thought you might know somewhere and-" he gave her a little shake "-and you know I'd never tell or let them hurt you – never! Just…please!"

She allowed herself a quick look at the small boy standing with the others a little way down the corridor ;He looked desperately thin and had a long slash down one side of his face that she was almost sure had been cut with a knife. She felt suddenly sick and looked back up at Neville, now meeting his eyes with a little more fear, but an intensity equal to his own.

"Ok, you've got two options:there's a niche behind a tapestry a bit along the corridor and up the swiveling staircase, but I'm really not sure it's big enough for all of you- or you can make for the kitchens and hope the house elves are still faithful to Dumbledore, that's downstairs behind that painting of the fruit bowl – you need to tickle the pear."

She stopped for breath to see him looking at her in a way she'd never seen him look at her before. He seemed on the edge of saying something, when the sound of more footsteps and angry voices came to them from down the corridor and instead he simply squeezed her hand for a moment, before running off with the others (who'd been making desperate motioning gestures for some time.)

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to work out what had just happened, before starting to make her own slow way back to her common room, still aware of the sound of footsteps and shouting which seemed to be growing closer.

She took a deep breath and turned around in one fluid motion, just as the noisy rabble spilled into the corridor.

She noticed it was the female Carrow who lead it. Her stupid doughy face-so like her brothers -alive with a type of glee she normally reserved only for when she was demonizing muggleborns. Hannah's fist clenched around her wand in her pocket , remembering the old toad's tiny black eyes fixed on hers as she had insulted people like her grandparents – a kind of laugh in her thin – wheezy voice all the while, and she felt a surge of hate run through her veins.

Behind the woman were several of the slytherin favorites, Pansy Parkinson's gloating face among them. And behind them, looking more flustered and older than she'd ever seen her, was professor McGonagall. Hannah felt a stab of pity –the old Hogwarts teachers had been doing everything they could so that the minimum amount of students got hurt. She couldn't help wondering sometimes whether they knew they were fighting a losing battle; it was scary to see her teachers like that.

"Oi! Girl!" She jumped slightly, and her gaze swung back to the enemy.

"Yes…professor?" she replied, her voice much colder than usual. The rage that had filled her moments before seemed to have cleared her of fear.

The woman seemed not to have heard her – but she saw, out of the corner of her eye, that Professor McGonagall's eyes had widened slightly in surprise.

"You haven't seen a bunch of stinkin' kids running through here have you?" She could tell the anger was starting to get the better of the woman now and she said nothing, trying to figure out what to do. The woman took a step closer and she could smell the stench of her breath.

"I asked you – you little mud blood – whether you'd seen anyone?" Hannah took the last of her courage and looked the death eater right in the face.

"n-no."

A kind of satisfaction came over the woman's face and she said softly:

"Detention." Before leading the others further down the corridor, the slytherins all taking care to step on her toes or cast her malevolent looks.

McGonagall hesitated for a moment, before letting the corner of her mouth twitch into a reluctant smile of approval and following.

Hannah put one hand against the wall, feeling faint and terrified of what might await her in a few nights time – but also a kind of satisfaction; she knew she could do it. She had made her decision.

The next day she went to her first DA meeting in two years.


	8. Chapter 8 finally

Despite the danger, fear and complete lack of anything that made Hogwarts Hogwarts – the next few months were probably some of the happiest of Neville's life. For the first time he was respected, maybe even admired and – what's more- he felt like he deserved it, at some level at least.

Of course, he wished all this were under better circumstances and that everything wasn't so frantic all the time; but he was more determined than he had ever been. The DA was helping people: all the spell practice was getting everyone (including himself) much better grades (except in the Carrow's subjects of course.) But the sense of being able to do something was the best thing. To be able to make a difference and to go and meet other people and talk honestly – even laugh – it was exhilarating.

But even with all that improvement in his life, he knew Hannah was – and always would be- the best part. Even glimpsing her shining face amongst the crowd at meetings would have lighted up his day, but now that didn't need to be the extent of it. They could sit together at lunch, go to Hogsmeade, spend hours just talking together. He supposed it wouldn't sound much to other people, but after nearly a year of not seeing her, each moment felt like sunshine.

They didn't need to sneak around anymore either : one of the few good things that had come out of the miserable situation they found themselves in was that no one was in any place to judge.

As the year went on, though, the darkness started closing in .First Ginny, then Luna - vanished into the void and things started to fall apart.

The other side was starting to learn them: predicting their moves and punishing them much more harshly and, especially following that particularly nasty incident involving Michael Corner, people seemed to think it wasn't worth the risk anymore and stopped turning up for meetings.

Then The Death Eaters had tried to capture his gran and , although the story of how she'd completely trampled them was one that had amused them for several nights , it really showed him how serious they were and Neville began to suspect he needed an escape plan – just in case.

On that day the weather was perfect. The spots of bright sunshine that squeezed through the gaps in the green bower of trees fell onto the soft grass and moss amongst which Neville sat with his note book – considering the white tops of mushrooms poking through patches of crumbled earth. The sound of birdsong mixed with the secret noises of the nearby forest agreeably filled the silence that normally surrounded the thicket, and the distinct smell of tree sap hung in the air, coming to him in sudden strong wafts every minute or so as he wrote, pleasantly prickling the back of his nose.

But then someone came crashing through the undergrowth and he jumped to his feet with the agility of a cat – or of someone who had seen far too much in the last few months. But the figure that emerged was not the terrifying vision he'd imagined. It was in fact the portly shape of Ernie Macmillan – clutching a stitch and very red in the face. But one look at his expression aroused nearly as much fear as the appearance of Voldemort himself would.

"Nev-Neville!" he panted, grasping a tree trunk for support.

"I was- was just walking back from Transfiguration and –and one of the ghost said – well – they're coming! – you've got to get out of here!"

Neville swung his bag onto his shoulder and scrabbled frantically amongst the grass for his notebook.

"It's alright, I've got a plan." He told Ernie, straightening up and trying to stop his voice from shaking.

The two boys stood looking at each other awkwardly for a moment.

"Look, " Said Ernie , who seemed to have composed himself considerably, but still looked rather anxious. "You've put on a – a jolly good show and all that and – well….just – just try not to get caught alright?"

They briefly shook hands, Sharing a moment of mutual understanding and then he was off , the contents of his bag hitting against his legs as he ran – headed for the room of requirement.

The door slammed behind him and he leaned against it, hearing the angry shouts on the other side as if from millions of miles away. He'd done it – he'd got away. But what now?

"Wait to be rescued I suppose." He said aloud wryly, before looking up to see where he was.

The room had really surpassed itself. The walls were paneled with rich mahogany and there were secrecy sensors and shelves of books, just like in in the DA room, ranged along one of the walls. Slung across one corner next to the grand fireplace hung a single hammock of faded scarlet under a Gryffindor banner made of the same material. There were also several empty shelves as well as a small secondary room which, on further inspection, contained a simple bathroom. It wasn't grand or particularly impressive, but these modest features made it into a space for living.

Neville hung his bag onto the hook nearest his bed and started to half-heartedly unpack; putting his mimbulous mimbletonia on the small table next to the only window and laying out the set of spare clothes he always carried over one of the high backed chairs.

He supposed he really was alone now. If half the DA had stopped showing up when Michael was tortured, his attempted arrest was sure to put off the ones that were left. Even Hannah was sure to recognise now that following him would just be too dangerous, the Carrows might start killing students next and he knew he'd never be able to forgive himself if any of them died for him. he'd just have to get used to being an outcast once more.

He sat against the wall and before he knew it tears were burning in his eyes. They had been so close.

Even though Neville had sorted himself out a bit by this time, so preoccupied was he by his thoughts, that a few minutes later he very nearly didn't notice her come in. The tell-tale creak of the door closing behind her made him look up from the floor , just in time to see her standing on the far side the of the room watching him.

"Hannah…." It'd meant to sound exasperated that she'd risked her health , maybe her life just to come and see him , but such a wreck of emotions was he by this point that he couldn't keep the longing out of his voice.

The several feet between them was suddenly nothing at all and then he was kissing her.

When you've wanted something for so long there's always a danger that it won't be as good as you imagined, but this wasn't one of those times. Holding her just felt so perfect, so natural, and the feel of her lips on his caused fireworks of happiness inside his head. He almost felt her small moan of ecstasy and kissed her deeper before pulling away slightly so that they were nose to nose and he was looking right into her eyes the colour of moonlight.

"I'm not complaining or anything … but you know you shouldn't have come Hannah. It's not safe."

She seemed neither surprised or upset by this remark, nor by his slightly hoarse voice.

"Of course I should" she swallowed "– you're here. That's all that counts"

He looked down at her , his breathing still slightly shallow from their recent exploits , and saw her looking straight back at him , her face transfigured by trust and a kind of passionate tenderness.

He fleetingly noted that this was the moment where his life would change forever, then moved forward for another kiss with his girlfriend.


	9. Chapter 9 anything you can do

After that, Hannah seemed to walk around in a sort of happy daze. Things were getting worse and worse at Hogwarts but now there seemed to be a small, unquellable light inside her that meant she could even meet the Carrow's ugly gaze with an unconcerned smile. In the day she got on quietly with her lessons and laughed with her friends in the corridors: a proper model student. But in the evenings she snuck up to the room of requirement.

At first it was just her and Neville up there, sometimes talking, sometimes doing much more than that, with only the occasional DA member stopping by to talk about the rebellion. But then ,as time went on, and the Carrows disciplinary methods got more psychopathic – with people barely daring to comment now when a classmate came downstairs looking like they'd been through a mincer – more people seemed to feel Hogwarts wasn't safe anymore , and joined Neville in the room.

A few weeks later, Hannah raised the subject of moving in to the room herself with Neville whilst they sat together on one of the padded benches the room had sprouted, her legs laid across his lap. He turned to her thoughtfully.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd love to have you around Han. But it's just….we've got Aberforth for food and all but if we ever need anything from the store cupboards or greenhouses, or we just need to know what's going on outside, well….I think we need people out there for as long as we can you know? If that's ok I mean …."

As if for the first time, she looked at him, really looked, and saw the new seriousness behind his eyes – the lines and edge of toughness that just hadn't been there last year, and she couldn't resist sitting up and giving him a hug before she answered.

"Of course that's ok, i-ive just been missing you."

She his body relax against hers.

"I know, I miss you too."

Just then, there was a general clamour around the cupboard that masked the entrance to the room and they both stood up hurriedly, almost falling over each other's legs in their haste. Dennis Creevey had just come in, supported by two of his friends, with his face a strange shade of grey and one of his arms hanging at an unnatural angle by his side.

"What happened?" she heard Neville ask one of the boys with their arm around Dennis.

He looked up at him with wide frightened eyes and seemed to take a minute to register the question before whispering: "D-dark arts….they-they crucioed him and he hit the desk and there was this sort of crunch and he passed out and-and professor Carrow wouldn't let us take him up to the hospital wing but we don't know what to do!"

Neville put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"Hey don't worry, we'll sort him out – just try and get him into one of the hammocks."

There was another rumble of activity as Dennis was carefully lowered into the nearest hammock and then Neville turned to the crowd, motioning for quiet.

"He looks pretty bad – does anyone know anything about healing? Wand stuff, I mean – I'm not sure we've got the time for potions."

A hush fell and the DA looked nervously at each other before Hannah felt her own hand rise slowly.

Neville turned incredulously to her "Hannah?"

She nodded but could feel her cheeks flooding with pink. "Yeah, I know the basic stuff; I can give it a go."

He blinked a couple of times before shaking his head slightly, grinning and motioned for the others to let her through to Dennis.

She spent the next half an hour or so working on him, operating as quickly and efficiently as she did on the plants in herbology. The fracture in his skull might just be a diseased branch, his dislocated arm: a problem with root mould, all recognised and cordially dealt with. In the end she couldn't quite fix all the damaged tissue on his shoulder and there was the odd large bruise that only potions could clear up entirely, but overall she couldn't help feeling quite pleased with how it had gone.

She felt a light pressure on her shoulder and knew without looking that it was Neville's hand that was there.

"That was brilliant Han! – I never knew you were a healer…"

She laughed, turning around to face him.

"Well I am a woman of many talents"

He demonstrated a look of mock outrage before letting it slip back into his easy smile.

"Well I knew that! Seriously though: when did you learn to do all of that?"

She shrugged uncomfortably.

"Well…..if you must know: I always wanted to be a healer….but after the –er- flamingo incident in my transfiguration exam, I'm pretty sure it's now going to happen any time soon….I – um- might still have read up on it though…."

He grinned, obviously trying hard not to laugh at the memory of little professor Tofty attempting to shoo fifty-odd flamingos out of the great hall, one of whom had already stolen his hat.

"Blimey – I mean -wow, I mean – urm ….do you think you'd be able to do something like that again?" he looked for a moment around the room at their friends and classmates, his smile slipping "soon enough we'll probably really be needing someone to fix people up – and as long as the Carrows are here Pomfrey's off limits to the likes of us…."

She squeezed his hand.

"Of course, I'll do anything to help."


	10. Chapter 10 before the battle

After that, Hannah was often looked to to help heal the growing number of rebels at Hogwarts. Most nights now, she would be shaken awake by Susan or Leanne and have to rush downstairs where someone would be waiting to take her to the injured person. In the daytime she had dark circles under her eyes and would often fall asleep in lessons – a dangerous thing nowadays- but it was worth it just for the sense of purpose and of doing the right thing that it gave her, it might be a quiet way to resist the regime, but it was a resistance none the less.

But even this started to get her into trouble; she seemed to be getting a detention nearly every night now, and a couple of times she caught the Carrows or Snape looking pointedly at her in the great hall, just like they had with Luna and Neville. It made her shiver.

Then one night came where she was rushing back from the Ravenclaw common room where she had been checking up on Stuart Ackerley. It was after hours so, naturally, she had put a disillusionment charm upon herself, so no one could possibly have seen her. But as she passed a tapestry on the 4th floor, she could have sworn she heard someone whispering as she passed, and when she reached the next staircase her foot suddenly slipped out from under her, sending her crashing down the steps head over heel and landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom, her right leg somehow twisted behind her and throbbing with pain. She put her hand up to her forehead only to see it covered in blood when she brought it back down to eye level. Before she passed out she thought maybe she could hear hushed, angry voices coming from above and black cloaked shadows moving past her.

A while later she felt dimly aware of someone leaning over her, checking her pulse and trying to talk to her. It was Padma Patil – one of the students she'd started teaching basic healing to. There were a few moments of confusion, a feeling of being strangely light and then she was in a room filled with indistinguishable faces. The edge of her vision seemed to be darkening and, when the charm was removed, it was all she could do to stop herself collapsing onto the floor. Then Neville's face swam before her and strong arms held her safe until she knew no more.

As it turned out, the few days before the return of the boy who lived were surprisingly quiet. Neville spent a couple of hours every day in a corner with some of the more senior members of the DA, working out a plan of action if Harry and the others did come back, but most of the time they spent together, their tranquility only shattered by the occasional newcomer to the room or minor injury for Hannah to heal. It was as if their entire surroundings were taking a deep, steadying breath….waiting…..

They were playing gobstones when it happened. The room had recently been issuing them with more and more methods of entertainment as boredom set in , and Hannah had just made a spectacular move under Neville's whispered instruction ( and to Ernie's , who she was playing against , complete astonishment.) when the chatter from the rest of the room seemed to slowly die away . Silence spread out in ripples to where they sat; just like the day Umbridge had discovered them ,a hundred years ago.

She looked around at her boyfriend for some explanation, only to see him already on his feet, looking somewhat warily at the large picture that hung above the fireplace. Before now, Hannah had only seen it empty apart from at mealtimes, when the image of a teenage girl appeared to fetch Neville to Aberforth's. Now, however, she was most definitely there much too early for dinner and her usual dreamy expression had turned into a kind of glittering excitement.

"Right everyone," said Neville, turning towards the sea of expectant faces "I think this is it!" and he left.

It was. But the second time Harry's achingly familiar face disappeared from the room , after telling them that they were going to make a fight for it , Ernie , Luna and some of the others stayed behind to see what Neville wanted them to do.

"Luna, I think you'll do best working from one of the towers if you can – and Dean, it'd be a good idea if you went with her, don't look at me like that! You're more accurate but she's faster – you can cover each other and….."

He went around the assembled people, giving them a quick kind word or pat on the back as they joined the crowd pushing towards the exit. Finally he turned to her, and she thought she sensed a certain heaviness about his manner.

"Hannah, Harry said the younger ones are getting out of the castle, go with them – keep them safe ok?"

She gaped at him for a minute, letting the feelings of disbelief, humiliation and anger chase each other around her mind before finally saying slowly:

"You – you don't want me here?"

Neville addressed a spot slightly above her left shoulder, speaking in a strangely formal tone.

"Well…no…I mean, it's the sensible thing to do, really, Han. I mean you're not the best at fighting but you're great with the little ones- and besides, you're an amazing healer – we'll need you here afterworlds…."

She could feel the anger and desperation inside her reach boiling point.

"To do what? Scrape you off the floor?"

He jerked backwards as if she'd just slapped him, but his gaze snapped back to hers and when he spoke it was without that odd stiffness.

"Please don't be like that Hannah, I promised I'd keep you safe, didn't I?"

She almost laughed.

"Oh come on! There's a time and a place Neville; this is war! And we're going to be outnumbered by about a million anyway. I'm eighteen and I can help-I want to help!"

"Hannah!" He put a hand on her shoulder m obviously trying to stem the outburst of emotions pouring from her. "Look-I know, ok, I know! But-but this isn't like just doing DA stuff – or even just driving the Carrows away. This-this is a suicide mission…. I know I won't be able to keep the others away now and anyway if I did we wouldn't have even the smallest chance to be able to make a difference….but you….well ….sometimes I think you're really the only reason I want to live through this and if….if…..just please go, I-I need you to be safe…."

He finished in a voice she'd never heard him use before- even when he'd just been that accident prone boy in her herbology class: frightened, pleading. It was that more than anything which made her nod slowly. In the last year she'd seen him cut , tortured and beaten more times than she cared to count , but she'd never seen him like that. She did, however, make one last, obviously futile attempt – tears already burning in her eyes.

"Can't you come with me? We could go somewhere….far away."

He shook his head slowly and attempted a small smile

"That sounds great, but I can't Han – i-it's kind of my job to be here…"

"You're two months younger than me."

"And a day older than Harry."

She tilted her head slightly, admitting defeat – she'd never really expected to win anyway.

There was a moment of silence in which they both looked around the now deserted room, both reliving their moments of intimacy there. Finally he looked back up at her.

"I'd better go….do take care of yourself…."

She nodded once and, for lack of anything better to say, murmured:

"Good Luck."

He kissed her softly one last time and turned to go. He was halfway to the door when something made her call after him.

"Neville?"

He didn't turn – perhaps not wanting her to see his face – but stopped walking, his back still turned to her.

"I love you."

She watched his shoulders slowly rise and fall as he took a deep breath and then he was gone, leaving her alone in the dark to wait.

She'd told him from some obscure hope that the knowledge of her love would protect him somehow, or maybe just keep her with him as he took that terrible journey alone….or because she wasn't sure she'd ever have another opportunity to tell him. But watching him leave she wondered if she'd simply added another load to a burden that was already nearly impossible to bear.


	11. Epilogue

Leaving the hall with Ron and Hermione, Harry paused for a moment – his eye caught by a flurry of movement over by where Neville had been sat just a few seconds ago, but was now on his feet.

He moved forward slowly, evidently oblivious to the throng of people around him, staring out at where the heavy oak doors stood open.

Leaning against them, a pink faced girl clutched a stitch, her breathing ragged and a cut across her cheek. However she, similarly, barely seemed to notice these distractions and was just staring, staring back at Neville.

They moved like people in a dream, ducking through the crowds as if they weren't even there, just completely and utterly transfixed on each other.

The two stopped just a few feet apart and Harry watched as Neville slowly raised a hand and lightly touched her cheek. The girl, who Harry recognised with a jerk was Hannah Abbott, smiled slightly and turned so that they could fall into step beside each other.

As they walked he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close as they left the hall together, silhouetted against the flood of dawn light.

"When did that happen?" He asked Luna, much later

She just smiled.

****author's note****

And so ends my first ever fanfic that was more than a one shot! Thanks everyone who's read, favourited or reviewed it-you are all awesome and I hope you enjoyed it.

I've also written a one-shot of their wedding which I think I'm putting up separately so look out for that sometime!

Long live Hevillah!


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